Yours
by DefyingSantaFe
Summary: I would come home to you. I only want you. And only you. Always you. ONESHOT. Rated for mild language. Spoilers for "Lauren" and before.


_This is a oneshot to hold you guys over. It's finals week and I will probably not (but there is always a slight possibility for surprise freetime) be able to post for **Familiar** or **Albatross** until sometime next week._

_As you know, I do now own these characters, I just play with them.  
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_And I am aware of the lack of Seaver. I like her, but she didn't fit in this story.  
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><p>It all started with a phone call.<p>

JJ received a phone call that pulled her away from the team. Usually she wouldn't take calls during a briefing, but the team could tell that this call was different. Hotch managed to draw the focus back to the case, only barely hiding equal concern. JJ did not return for quite some time, hours passed without her presence. When she did finally return, calling everyone back to the conference room – her face depicted a mixture of emotion, all of which she was trying to reign in. She was trying to gain composure, a grin threatened to break free, but it was only fleeting. Then fear streaked across her face. Then finally she settled into a somber expression. Only then did the team take notice of the file clutched in her hand.

The file was a plane manila folder that was rather mundane except for the word 'confidential' plastered upon its cover. JJ waited for the team to settle and ignored questions being thrown at her from all directions. She was bracing herself.

JJ took a deep breath and began to speak. The first try for words failed her, almost as if they scared her. For the second attempt she regained her composure, "This morning I received news."

Though that was obvious, nobody made an attempt to call her on it. She seemed haunted by her words, afraid of what they might bring. JJ then looked to Hotch, drawing strength from their stoic leader. His nod of reassurance was barely perceptible but enough.

She cleared her throat again, finally finding the courage, "Ian Doyle was taken down this weekend. He was at his headquarters in the north of France when a task force formed from several government agencies breached the area."

Derek clenched his jaw, indicating his continued anger towards the man. Tears streamed down Penelope's face. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure if he should be happy about a death or sad about the casualties he caused. Rossi and Hotch remained unchanged, watching JJ, waiting for her to continue.

JJ managed to keep the nerves from her facial expression, but she was revealed in how she was fumbling with the file in her hands, "During the tactical assault, there were two teams. A team of eight and a team of two entered the building from separate points. The larger team distracted Doyle and his men from the front while two agents were able to enter undetected from the back. Doyle, in his usual manner, tried to escape only to be confronted by the smaller entry team."

She looked once more at Hotch, "There was a firefight and in the end, Ian Doyle had two shots to the head. Clyde Easter and Emily Prentiss will be credited with his capture and organizing this mission jointly between British and American resources."

She finally released the folder from her hands and opened it, spreading the contents on the table, "Two years ago the file you saw had a fabricated coroner's report for Emily. This is the actual file. She had intensive internal injuries and was in a private hospital for several weeks before she was moved to Paris. From there, I was not informed of where she would be. About a year ago, Clyde got a significant lead on Doyle and pulled Emily out of hiding to assist in his capture or death."

She stepped back, allowing the team to wrap their minds around this wealth of information. Most of the members of the room were staring at her, shocked by her admission. JJ had spent months preparing for this moment. Emily had implored her to let someone else do it, but JJ couldn't let her friend go out on her own without knowing she was doing something to help, even if it was keeping this secret from their collective family. JJ practiced this moment in her head thousands of times and somehow the longer she had to keep it a secret the more bizarre it became. She felt oddly relieved when the others were so hurt. Her family finally knew the truth that she'd been hiding. Thankfully, she had Hotch to lean on as well. They both knew this day would come and they both knew that the reactions would not all be happy ones. Not unhappy with the fact Emily was alive, just unhappy with the lie.

Garcia's hand traveled partially across the table and grabbed one of the photos documenting Emily's injuries from the file. She dropped it quickly before a sob wracked her body. Derek immediately pulled her into his arms, letting her cling to him as she cried. Reid walked over to the window and looked off into the distance, not at anything in particular, just something to allow him to hide his own tears. Rossi remained rooted to his seat, his eyes focused on a spot just above the table. Hotch stood and walked over to JJ, clasping a reassuring hand onto her shoulder.

"There's more," she muttered to only his ears, "but I want them to be ready."

Hotch only nodded as he looked over his team, he knew this was going to be hard for all of them. He just hoped that it wouldn't be too damaging.

Some more time passed before someone spoke up. Rossi's voice, thick with emotion, pierced the silence, "Do you know where she is now?"

JJ made eye contact with the older man, "I do. She's been in D.C. for about a day now. She's been held up at the state department doing paperwork and giving her statement..."

"Is she going to come here?" Garcia piped up from Morgan's embrace.

"No."

The entire team turned to face her, alarmed. She held her hands up to stop any outbursts, "She does not want to force any of you to see her if you're not ready. And she doesn't want to force you to see her if you're never ready. She's giving us the option."

"I want to see her," Reid's voice was almost too soft to hear.

JJ smiled, addressing Reid but including everyone, "I'm positive that she wants to see you too. I can contact her for you, or I can give you her information. She's staying at a hotel for the time being. And yes, she does have a cell phone, courtesy of Ambassador Prentiss."

Reid looked back to the window, satisfied with her answer.

"I have one more thing," JJ started as she stepped towards the door, "for all of you."

She reached just past the door frame into the hallway and grabbed a box very similar to the ones evidence is held in. JJ placed it on the table and took the top off, revealing six distinct bundles of envelopes.

"Emily wrote letters to us that obviously she couldn't send, not until now that is. She wanted you to have them because that's what they were meant for."

JJ handed a thick bunch to Reid; his bundle looked larger than the others, full of exact explanations for the young doctor. Garcia, Rossi, Hotch and JJ all had similarly sized piles. Derek's seemed to be the smallest bunch.

Hotch looked to his team and their letters, "I think Strauss would be alright with us taking the rest of the day."

He didn't need to say anymore to convince them. Already Penelope had ripped into her first letter; she didn't want to wait to see what was inside. Reid warily observed his before deciding to take his home, leaving the BAU with a somber expression. Derek followed suit, his expression unreadable. Rossi and Hotch retreated to their offices. JJ gathered the file and put it away before joining Garcia, who had already let free a watery laugh at Emily's prose.

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><p>The door closed with incredible force, causing the surrounding windows to rattle in their panes. Derek all but threw his keys towards the table in the entryway, not caring if they hit the desired target. His body led him to the kitchen and subsequently to the scotch. He poured himself a drink but didn't move further to drink it. His mind reeled, his thoughts focused on the events of the day.<p>

Emily was his partner. Emily was his best friend. Emily died essentially in his arms. He had come to terms with that. Granted, he was still angry at himself. He still blamed himself for not pushing harder. What else was he good for if he couldn't even get his partner to open up to him? He lost her. He lost her and he had coped as best he could. Now he's supposed to deal with all of those emotions in a completely different light. She lied to him. She could have trusted him, but chose not to.

Derek pushed himself away from the counter and focused on the bundle of letters. They were there, across from him, mocking him. He couldn't help but notice that the others had bigger bundles. Derek was not the type to be jealous but how much could he possibly mean to the woman if she did not write much to him. How much did she even care about their partnership?

He grumbled to himself, "I guess I'm going to have to read those."

He grabbed the pile and ripped open letter after letter. The letters all rang in the same vein, "Derek, I am so sorry. Emily."

He grabbed the letters, moved through his kitchen to his front door, grabbed his keys and left once more.

He had to see her.

Derek drove to the hotel that JJ had told them that she was staying in, although he did not think he would be using the information so soon. Before long he was standing in front of the hotel room door. He prepared himself as best he could and knocked.

Emily jumped at the sound of knocking. She knew she was safe now, but two years on edge will leave some aftershock. She approached the door with an air of apprehension and looked through the peep hole. Her pulse skyrocketed, and she took a steadying breath before opening the door.

Derek's words abandoned him as soon as he laid eyes on her. Emily Prentiss actually stood before him, looking a little thin and rough around the edges, but essentially her. Her eyes betrayed her composure, exposing her fear to him. Part of him wanted nothing more than to just hug her, but he remembered why he was there. He found his words, "How could you?"

Emily wordlessly allowed him into her room; this was not a hallway conversation.

He watched as she double checked the lock before continuing his train of thought, "We mourned you."

Emily's breath hitched in her throat, "I had to do it. He would have killed you. I was keeping you safe."

He still clutched the letters in his hand, brandishing them with his gestures, "You should have told us as soon as you found out!"

"It was my problem."

"As soon as it started affecting you, it became my problem. Dammit, Emily! We were partners! If something is bothering you it is bothering the both of us."

Emily looked at him with searching eyes, "You can't possibly believe this is because I did not trust you."

"Emily, what am I supposed to think? You threw yourself into an impossible situation without telling me! What would have happened if you told me? From where I'm standing, I probably wouldn't have lost you for two years!"

"It was NEVER that simple," Her eyes flared with anger, "You don't think I thought through every single possible option? I knew for weeks about his possible appearance and that entire time I was struggling! I was fighting with myself and in the end I had to choose the road less traveled. I had to go on my own to keep you all as safe as possible. And even then you came to Boston. When I saw the gun trained on Seaver and Rossi my heart all but shattered to pieces because I was afraid of the outcome!"

She moved to walk past him, to get to a less crowded part of the room but he grabbed her by the shoulders. Derek forced her to look at him, "I was right there in that room with you. I held your hand. I told you that I was proud of you. The next thing I knew JJ was telling us that you were dead and didn't even make it off of the table! What was that for? We could have doubled security and drawn him in; you didn't have to leave us!"

"He wouldn't have fallen for that! You are not the expert on the man, Derek, I AM. He would have waited. He would have drawn it out longer than we could. He would have disappeared and then he would have come to me through you. He would have hurt all of you. He was pissed and he was not going to let me live. Death was my only way out. It was my only option."

Derek pulled away from her and clenched his fists. He noticed the crumpled letters still in his hands. Throwing them to the ground, he rounded on her again, "You keep saying that you did this because you cared. I mourned for the loss of my partner and my best friend. I lost someone that I deeply cared about and it took me months to come to terms with that. I still don't think I came to terms with everything. I learned a lot of things about myself that I wish I had learned sooner, but you were ripped away from me."

He glared at a point on the wall next to her, "I was in love with you. I was fucking in love with you and I get six fucking words. I thought that there was so much between us. I was certain that had you had lived that I had found the person that I wanted to be with. I was devastated that I figured that out too late, that I had finally found her and she slipped through my fingers."

Derek grabbed a handful of the letters from the floor and brandished them in front of her face, "Reid gets a novel. Everyone else gets well thought out letters. I get six words."

After discarding the letters on the floor once more, he turned and made a move to exit when he heard her voice angrily call out to him, "You really have lost your touch haven't you?"

Derek stopped abruptly and turned back towards her, "What do you mean by that?"

She picked up the letters, crossed the room and thrust them into his hands, "You need to read them more thoroughly."

Derek took them roughly from her hands, still seething with anger. He started flipping through the letters. They all were dated, when she packed them into the bundle she had taken care to make sure they were chronological –from the very first letter of her absence to the one right before coming home. He didn't notice anything at first, the anger clouding his judgment. Derek glanced to Emily, she gestured to the letters. He sighed and took a third look, this time taking care to look closely. The pages had been warped and there were portions of smudged ink on every single letter – she had cried over every letter. He felt a pang of guilt and briefly wondered if the others noticed this as well. Or had it been only for him?

Derek had been taking care to not really read the words on the page, partially because they hadn't changed from the consistent statement of 'I am so sorry' and in part because he had been so angry. Taking a more thorough look at the messages, he noticed that there was in fact a change. The salutation evolved over the course of the letters from just 'Emily,' to 'Love Emily,' finally ending on 'Your Emily.'

He ran his fingers over the words, to verify the fact that they were in fact written there and not just imagined.

"I had a lot of time to think," she started, "I woke up every single day from nightmares and the only thoughts that kept me going some days were of my family. Mostly of you. I would think about how you would make me laugh. About how you were so in tune with my emotions that you knew that something was wrong even when I was hiding it from everyone else. How you made me feel so comfortable when I first joined the team, like I had always been there. You made me feel safe and I've never felt that way around anyone else, any one person, before."

She hugged herself and shifted on the balls of her feet, tears glistening in her eyes, "I realized that if I could choose only one reason to fight. If I could only have one gift to come home to. If I could have just one wish granted. It would be you. I would win against Doyle for you. I would come home to you. I only want you. And only you. Always you."

Derek moved swiftly towards her, as if he did not want to waste another minute. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lips crashing against hers in a desperate, yearning kiss. Emily's arms coiled around his neck to pull him impossibly close.

The kiss broke, but they remained nose to nose, arms still around one another – neither wanting to let go.

"Only you," Derek echoed, loving the feeling of her in his arms, "always you, my Emily."

"Your Emily," she whispered as she leaned in to kiss him again.

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><p><em>Finis! I hope you enjoyed it!<em>


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